Forgotten
by herRhi-chan
Summary: AU. Shiro and Ichigo become friends after a meeting in a mausoleum. Someone holds a secret they don't even know they have.   I don't want to say any more, because it'll ruin the story, i hope it's enjoyable, please review. AUAUAUAUAUAU
1. Chapter 1

Just a warning- Shiro is incessantly out of character…this was more for testing this plot, then testing the characters. Only Shiro and Ichigo are in this. it's very AU, hopefully it's good though…enjoy?~

My feet hit the pavement at an abnormally fast pace, I was fueled by adrenaline and fear. It didn't feel real at all though, I think this is one of my strange dreams. Everything was so blurred and nothing was clear, the only thing I could make out was the thudding of blood and my brain telling me to hurry up, go faster! All I had to do was keep running and I'd make it…make it to where? It didn't make sense though; I would keep running, probably fall off a cliff, and right before I hit the end I would wake up in a cold sweat trying to remember what I was doing…though the way I could hear my mind's warning to hurry up made me question that…

My whole body was aching-well it felt like it was aching-, and I was at the point where if I slowed down to catch my breath, I'd never run again. My heart was clenching, the blood in my veins spasming from lack of oxygen. My hands were white streaks in front of my eyes, and I heard heavy foot steps gaining on me. This was too realistic…

Just like in the horror movies, I tripped over my untied laces, crashing into the ground. That's when I knew it was a dream, I didn't feel anything, and there was no blood cascading from my nose and my jaw wasn't to the side.

So, I decided not to fight, because what was the point of exhausting yourself in a dream? You'd only wake up on the floor in a sweat. The figure leaned over me with something silvery reflecting in the moonlight…Oh it was a kitchen knife. Eh, I would've hoped my imagination was better than that. Though, I can't remember who I am at the moment though, so maybe my imagination wasn't that great anyway?

I couldn't see the man/woman/it's face, there was nothing, every time I gazed up to meet their eyes, there was nothing…but each time I looked down, I knew that if I stared up again I could see them! But I couldn't hold an image…how strange. There was no sound anymore, just a metallic clang, really sharp in my ears. It stung. I didn't fight when their clenched fist descended towards me. I couldn't see the skin tone, I couldn't see any details, but some how I knew it was sweaty…and blood covered when it came back away from me. I think it might've been gloved…I couldn't tell. I didn't expect to feel anything, just like when I tripped onto my face, but when the harsh blade ripped through my buttoned up shirt, and pierced my chest, it hurt worse then anything I'd ever felt. But I didn't bleed..it felt like I was, I could feel liquid coursing down me, but there was nothing there.

It kept striking me, over and over in all different places, no more adrenaline to keep me numb and fast. The person worked their way up my body, plunging the knife into my collarbone. I wanted to scream. It was sharp and stinging, and the slithery disgusting feeling of blood rushing out of me-even though it wasn't- made me want to puke. The impact of it cutting through my bones felt like a huge bruise, the wiggling of the unsteady hand jarring it inside me. It was the most intense feeling…why did it have to be pain though?

When it went through my lungs I could _feel_ it. nothing was as focused or real as the knife in my rib cage. It slid out, sickeningly slow, a suction like noise following, making me cough. My lungs filled with what I think was blood… That part wasn't as clear. The worst part was this, because once it was gone, my new wound ached for something to cover it, make the pain stop. I was shredded.

At this point, even if I did want it to stop, I couldn't fight back. When it struck into my throat, I was silenced, no more noise. Something different happened to me this time though…when whoever it was released their grip, realization flashed through me…this wasn't the first time I'd had this dream…I'd had this dream every night since I could remember…every single night…this same thing happened to me. The pain flooded through me ten fold at this thought, every fiber of my being nothing but on fire with the sick feeling of cold slimy metal inside me…it's indescribable unless you've been cut deeply before.

The blade was still in my neck, let me tell you, it was worse then any sore throat, searing and sharp…and in this case warm and wet…in a bad way.

Such a realistic dream…it was as if I could feel my life fading away, all my ability to comprehend things was gone. Why was my chest rising?...what was the purpose of pulling air into me for?...actually it was quite…what's the word?...word? what is a word? What's this cold thing under me?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized everything was quite comfortable the way it was. The darkness was a relief almost…no more buzzing or keening in my ears from the…the what? Hovering could be the word used to describe this feeling. Wait, hovering? What did that mean again?

Then, everything changed again. I was back to understanding. I couldn't see though…but I knew that when this dream was finally over, and these feelings gone, just like every time I slept, that I'd be back in the real world. I knew that. Every night, or day, depending on when I slept, I'd have this dream. This same dream, and I'd never remember it, or what it was about until I got to this point, this limbo between sleeping and consciousness. As soon as I came back to reality, I'd completely forget…there was something I was trying to remember, something I knew I desperately needed to understand! It would help me…I don't know how, but if I could remember this thing, then I could go some where…but where was that?

~)?(~

Where had I fallen asleep this time? Oh, this cemetery. This was the fifth time this month. I guess I should be glad no one had found me. Every once in a while I'd alternate cemeteries. They weren't that far apart…but for some reason, I couldn't stay away from this one. I'd slept on a slab of cement over one of he graves…it was a wonder how my back wasn't sore…

For the longest time I've been wandering around…maybe a few weeks…though it seemed longer. I remember waking up some place hurting all over…I'd probably been wasted the night before or something…though I can't remember if I drank?...but I'd gone home and found my mother staring at the wall with the strangest look on her face. She wouldn't acknowledge me…we'd never been friends… a-and when I walked up stairs…to my room, there was a single box packed with all my things- I didn't have that many. I almost cried…my mother had kicked me out of the house…I still hadn't finished high school, why would she do that?

I didn't ask her questions though. didn't grab my things-which was a very stupid move. I just left. The whole time she never moved or said a word to me, though I screamed at her, yelled and pitched a fit…when I slammed the door and called her a bitch, she looked around as if she had no idea what I was talking about, she never even made eye contact.

I'll never forget that.

I got up and stretched, looking down. I still had the same clothes-disgusting I know, but they never got dirty, never smelled. It was always cold, so I hardly sweated. Just a plain black shirt and pants. My skin seemed really pale to me, the black clothes didn't help with that.

For the first time I took in my surroundings. It was late afternoon I think, and it was snowing, but I really wasn't cold. There was a cypress tree over me…and poppies beside me. Everywhere I went I saw poppy flowers…they put me on edge though…but why fear a flower?

People were entering the wrought iron gates of the graveyard, they each passed me, yet none of them looked at me. I was used to this though. people were assholes. I blamed it on my appearance, I looked creepy, obscenely pale…weird eyes. I guess humans tended to block out weird things…and ignoring me was part of that. It didn't matter to me one way or another though, I hate people…all they caused was trouble.

I wandered back around to the mausoleum, it was dark inside. The ceiling of it was painted to look like a clock, I was fascinated with this clock. I would stare at it for hours just waiting.

After some time I heard clicking foot steps of shoes on stone. I was quiet, I never made foot steps. They disturb the peace. I jumped behind one of the tombs, not wanting confrontation. The person slowly made his way to the tomb I was hiding behind, so I shifted and stuffed myself farther into the wall. I could still see him though, he had the brightest orange hair I'd ever seen, and stunning chocolate brown eyes. His face looked so sad though…like he was lost, or someone else was lost, and he'd been the one to lose them. That was more likely the case, seeing as he was in a grave site. He held a small red poppy flower and a white rose in his hand. Why take those to a mausoleum? Didn't it make more sense for the flowers to go on the ground?

He laid them down on the tomb, whispering words of sorrow to whoever lay encased in the cement. I leaned back, so I could sit more comfortably, and give him more privacy…he could stay under the illusion that he was alone.

I heard more footsteps after a few minutes, and crawled out of my hiding hole.

"you were listening to me" I knew it was him…I didn't want to look up, but I did anyway.

"not on purpose…I heard someone coming so I hid…" it was the truth. He looked at me like I was retarded.

"why would you hide…in a mausoleum…?"

"heh, uh" I held my finger up, my mouth hanging open…I didn't know how to answer that one. His scowl broke into a grin. He had a nice smile…slightly crooked, and I like it.

More clicking on the stone echoed through the room, more people came down the steps, a woman and her child. They went to the tomb next to the orange haired one's.

"so…are any of your relatives _resting_ here?" he asked. I shook my head no. the woman turned and gave us a funny look. Bitch…albinism is a rare thing…but no need to gawk…or maybe it was his bright hair, who knew. Apparently he noticed the woman's odd look because his eyes narrowed into a scowl. Damn, the smile was much better.

"why don't we go back up." He wanted…to talk to me? I felt special, I immediately accepted, following him up the stairs to the outside world.

"who was it tha's dead?..if can ask…" I didn't mean to be rude…but I was…intrigued by this man…

"my…my mother," oh. Someone he was close to…

"m'sorry…"

"It's not your fault…what's your name?" he…he wanted to know my name? he could be bothered enough to know my name? or did he just want to change the subject…

"Shiro…" he snickered. Yeah, yeah it was funny, an albino named Shiro…

"what's yers?"

"Ichigo…" okay, he had no room to laugh.

"seriously?"

"it's not my fault~!" he finished in a dramatically funny voice. we both laughed. He was funny, and accepting it seemed. I looked him up and down, just picking things out he had one faded and tight blue jeans with holes at the knees, and some uniform school shirt. Around his wrists were a bunch of tied leather and rope bracelets…his fingers ere callused-did he work with his hands?...and he had on white sneakers…well they had been white…

He seemed to be doing the same to me…not that there was much to see…

"what's that necklace?" he came closer to me. What necklace? I don't remember having one… he looked up at me, looking for something, then held his hand out. When I looked down, sure enough there was a silver pendant around my neck…the front of it looked like a clock…with a candle in the center instead of hands. There was a raven carved into it, perched on top of a plain square, the square shinier then the rest of the pendant, with a cracked line down it. on the bottom of it there was a single silver poppy. It was such a detailed thing, how could I not notice it before?

"no idea" I shrugged, answering honestly. I picked it up to study it again, but all the pictures were gone now…leaving a plain silver circle.

"it's nice…"

"thanks…" awkward conversation…I didn't want it to end though…maybe, we could be friends…


	2. Chapter 2

Ch-2 Ichigo POV

Shiro, what a fitting name…for his outer appearance anyway…

We talked for hours about so many things, whatever popped into our heads, we kept laughing, even after it started to rain. My hair became soaked, sticking to my face, yet…he seemed to stay dry some how…how odd… he was…very interesting, and I felt compelled to keep talking to him, he had so much to say, in his witty and sarcastic way.

our conversation had to end though, the sun was setting, the air felt cool…and it was as if his mood just suddenly changed, more solemn, subdued.

"will you come back tomorrow?" he asked in what I thought a hopeful tone.

"yeah, yeah sure, I will." It was a promise not only to him, but to myself. I nodded heading out. I didn't see him leave the dark yard though…curious…

~)?(~

I think…that meant we were friends! I'd kept to myself for so long because no one would talk to me, and now finally, I had someone I could talk to. Through out our conversation, I kept noticing more things about him, how his adam's apple bobbed whenever he laughed at what I had to say, or how his eyes would match the rest of his face in his expression, you knew he wasn't lying to you.

I felt…drawn to him, almost like I needed him. I needed him to do what though? thinking about that made my brain itch…the same way it does when you forget something, you know you've forgotten it, but you're trying in vain to remember what the hell it was.

I stared up at the sky, rain blurring my vision. It felt like it was passing through me. I saw several grey moths flutter around. I didn't like them in the same sense I didn't like poppies. Both things brought the same sensation like I should be remembering something. I think this was called amnesia…

It hadn't been that long since I'd gone to sleep. I didn't feel hungry…though I can't remember the last time I had something to eat. So with nothing to do, I decided to go back to sleep. Maybe I'd dream of food?

?

Whose bright idea was it to go back to sleep? Damn my stupidity and inability to remember terror. I was back in my limbo, right before I'd slip into my dream…if I could remember this thing, then I'd never sleep again…I'd-

I was running, I had no idea where but I knew I had to move! I could hear something behind me, but what it was I didn't know. My vision was terrible, I couldn't even see my hair in my eyes. Everything was so goddamn blurred! It frustrated me to no end. I felt the same falling sensation, but I couldn't get my bearings because of the smeared way everything looked…as if you threw oil on wet acrylic painting, no lines, nothing bold, all the colors run together.

I felt a searing pain in my chest, and all I knew was intense hurt. I had no idea where it was coming from, just that it was sharp, it stung in a sickly way, and…I think it'd happened before…I couldn't tell.

My neck exploded, a gurgling noise escaping me. I went completely blind, and I was trying to breathe, but no air would come passed the blood clogging my throat…

My head hit something hard…but it was relief compared to the previous torture.

I knew nothing anymore…at the back of my mind, I knew I knew something…but nothing was the better word for it. Remembrance…that word held importance…it was…something I was supposed to…

Blackness…everything went black, my hearing, vision, sense of feeling…I was back in my limbo…I reminisced about that dream to myself. Compared to the ones I know I'd had before…I don't think it was that bad…maybe, just maybe these nightmares would go. Nothing in particular stuck with me about it...the details were even worse then any time before…the pain and the specifics of it were nothing…

Frantically, I tried to grasp as much as I could, maybe I could piece together something before I woke up again…

?

I hadn't moved since yesterday? Was it tomorrow already? No, the sky was still dark, I can't have been asleep for that long. I didn't want to leave the cemetery, they'd already locked the gates anyway, so I was stuck here.

I pulled up on blades of grass, digging into the dirt. There were little rabbits behind some of the head stones…the long leg muscles and pointed face made them look more like hares though. oh why the hell did it matter…

I decided to go to my favorite head stone. I had no idea whose it was, I only ever saw the back of it, but I felt like it was the only person I could trust. It was bluish grey, different from the average grey, and the back of the stone was worn down with the impression of my back. I really, for some reason, liked this grave, and when I died, I think I'll get one…just like this one. Though I hope to accomplish a lot before I die. I told the grave this every time I decided to chat with it. I'd explained to it about my mother, and talked to it about all the different classes I wanted to take when I finally went back to that damn school, and about the several different careers I wanted; a professional hacker, I loved computers…or maybe someone who designed exhibits in a museum, all the different ways to coordinate and lay things out…or study chemicals and viruses…I had no clue…today though, or rather tonight, I was going to talk about Ichigo. It's not strange that the thing I'm closest to-that I can remember- is a dead person, is it?

Eh, so what if it is, I don't care. I didn't speak that loud, and I mostly kept the conversation in my head…but this was where the best answers came from…I am not a schizophrenic!

My eyes closed, nothing to leak through them, and I slipped into thoughts that were swimming around in my head. Thoughts on people, why was everyone oblivious to me? Why were the only things I could talk with dead…save Ichigo, and why couldn't I remember anything?...and Ichigo. I felt so drawn to him, I couldn't let go of him. I…for some reason unknown to me, needed him.

Oh, how the mind works in such strange ways…

It was raining again, all the grass around us, the grave and I, was coated in dew, and the headstone I leaned against was getting slick with water. I held my hand out to catch some of the water…it didn't get slick or dewy. Everything smelled like wet earth now, and I could see steam rising from the ground because of the cold humid rain. I breathed it in deep and relaxed.

"ya know, I love the cemetery at night…hah, it's such an odd thing to say, right?" I asked the headstone…no answer came though…it didn't matter to me. I'd never seen a sunrise before, even if I stayed up all night, I'd end up with my eyes closed, or inside…or something else. But sunset would be the same thing, wouldn't it? just in reverse.

I bid farewell to the bluish grey headstone, and went back to the mausoleum, it was dry and cold inside, but I didn't shiver. I took my usual position on the floor underneath the clock and studied it. there was no color on it, but the carved detail in it was better then tints. The lines went from shallow to deep, giving it depth and making it look so real. The only way I could tell it wasn't was because the hands on the face of it stayed in the same position, exactly twelve. At the bottom-middle of it was the shape of a moon and sun face, only half of each, and facing different directions, as if it were displaying that the time was between day and night. One half of the timepiece was shaded darker then the other, giving it the appearance of being in candle light. It was so awe inspiring to me.

I closed off all my senses, so all I could do was see, my eyesight sharpening. After a while, a few people came in, taking no notice of me, no one looking at me, no one speaking to me. Why were they so cruel? What was wrong with me that they couldn't be bothered with me? Was it because they were in a hurry to feel the pain of loss? Why?

What did it matter to me anyway? People were pointless…except for Ichigo. I closed my eyes, shutting off the last sense I had to the world. I went along with the fantasies my head created, different scenarios for unusual happenings…like what would it be like if I were to die, would people take notice of me then? Would anyone miss me? Would they cry? I didn't think so. What would it be like to kill a person? Would they scream? how would I do it, would people notice me then? Would I be acknowledged?

When I reopened my eyes and started to feel again, it was hot and stuffy…it didn't feel that bad to me, but I could tell it was so because of the cement, it'd started to sweat. I got up off my back crawling to the tomb Ichigo had laid flowers on before. They were black and dry now. but just yesterday they'd been fresh? Flowers don't do that over night, do they?

Wait, whose grave was this? and the flowers…dammit, I'd forgotten something important again. Why did I keep doing that? Wasn't there some place was supposed to be right now though? focus! The more I think about it, the more I question whether I'm supposed to go or not…

"hey!" someone was speaking to me?

"you said you'd meet me here again today…I'm glad you did" I turned to see a teen my age. He had orange spikes and brown eyes. Did I know him? Yesterday?...

"c'mon, I've been coming to see you for three days and you do this same thing!" that sentence made me snap. I remembered now…this was Ichigo, The only thing that mattered, my first friend that I could remember, and someone to talk to…why did I forget him? …did he say three days?...but, I only met him yesterday…

"you said you'd meet me at the gate again…why don'tcha?" I looked at him funny, I don't remember…"I'm sorry, I must've forgotten…I guess"

"you sound like you have amnesia…jesus" I walked up to him, the closer I got, the more memories came flooding back to me. I had been friends with him for more then just the other day, and I was supposed to meet him at the wrought iron entrance when the sun was high…shit, how did I manage to forget that?

"aw, fuck I'm sorry, seriously, I have no idea how I keep forgetting…"

"don't worry about it, let's go up, eh?" he pointed to the stair case, and I sprinted after him…

Thoughts kept running through my head about him, and they were so true, the feelings. I felt that, without him I'd die, he was keeping me alive…these were so real…I didn't even know him that well, but just from…our conversations…

"hey, I brought ya something to eat…wanna find a tree to hide under?...from the sun.."

I nodded…he brought me something? Like, a present? To eat? It lit me up, he cared. We wandered around aimlessly for a while in silence until we found a willow tree to sit under. It was lined by a bunch of small graves, the ones with little bronze name plates. I wonder, do the dead get pissed off whenever someone walks over them? Or does it really matter to them anymore?

"here, it's ham" he said simply holding out a folded piece of bread with pink meat inside it. I watched him chow down on his half…I laughed, he bit into it, his eyes rolling back, and he ate half of it in one bite! It was funny to me. He started chuckling at my amused expression, sticking his tongue out. I sniffed at my sandwich, it didn't smell like much…I nibbled on the edge of it…I couldn't taste anything, so I took a bigger bite, I waited for a tingling sensation on my tongue, but none came, it was tasteless…how do you screw up making a sandwich? Hah, I laughed in my head…he didn't need to know how bad a cook he was, and it didn't matter to me anyways.

"so, why do you hang out here everyday?" he asked…hmm, what to say to that…not the truth of course, I didn't want him to worry…

"eh, it's fun?...I dunno…I like it here" he nodded as if he understood…I wonder if he did…

"well, what if we went somewhere else? Like, I dunno, just for a walk sometime?"

"yeah, sure…sounds fun…"

"or we could go to the library, I need to do some research project for my one class…"

Hmm, school was a good subject, I needed to know what I'd be doing when I returned…

"what's it about?" I asked, taking another bite of the flavorless sandwich.

"well, the instructor of my history class wants us to write a report on something important that happened in this town, something recent though…" I nodded listening intently…his voice was so…enchanting, I guess. I loved to hear him talk, I could listen to him for hours…

"I think I'm going to do it on something gory just to spite her though, she wants five pages, holy damn!...maybe like, a serial killer…or a building that collapsed, something stupid like that…" how…spiteful…

"oh, that sounds nice" I said sarcastically. I heard crunching on gravel behind us, and looked up to see a little girl with soft brown curls and bright green eyes. She had a little dog on a leash with her and lilies in her hand. She walked up to a grave close behind us to set the flowers down, then her dog started barking like crazy. The small beady brown eyes bore into me, not with fear or anger…but it looked like pity?...how can I see the emotions in the dog's eyes?

The little girl followed her pet towards us, her green dress all flowy in the wind.

"who are ya talkin' to mister?" she was looking right at Ichigo. Sigh, ignored again…

"his name's Shiro…?" his voice quivered at the end to make it more of a question. so he didn't know this girl, okay…

"I can barely see anyone there…" she squinted. She looked like she must've been almost four. It's sad to lose some one at such a young age…

Wait, she could barely see me? Was she blind?...almost blind at any rate…maybe she was visiting the gravesite of someone who she'd been in an accident with, and she went blind…and they ended up here…or maybe-

"well…your dog an certainly see him" the little girl, who I decided to call Catherine, seemed to just now notice her madly barking dog, and pulled on the leash gently. As soon as she touched the furry little head, the noise stopped, and the tail started wagging.

With a shrug, Catherine walked away, back to the little gravestone whispering to it quietly. I turned to Ichigo who was eyeing me with some…emotion in his eyes. Wasn't it ironic how I could almost _feel_ the dog's pity, but when it came to…my…friend, I was at a loss for knowing? But, oh how I longed to know…

"hey, Shi-" he'd come to calling me that…I loved it "I think I should get going, my sisters'll be worried if I'm late for dinner" damn. Why did he have to go?

"try to remember to meet me at the gate next time, okay?" I nodded solemnly…it always made me feel less whenever he was gone. I wonder-

"oh, and I might be a bit late tomorrow because of the research I have to do…but I'll be here eventually" he smiled at me as I got up off the ground.

"don't be so sad…I'm not gonna leave you permanently" he whispered in my ear. I was aware of how close he was, the heat he was radiating warmed me to my core…if only I could be closer…and just like that, he was waving goodbye to me, running back through the headstones to the black gothic style gate…

* * *

next chapter...it gets better. promise...i think


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry if it's confusing, but if it doesn't make sense, then you should understand it~0.o no I'm not high.

Ch-3

I had a decision made, today when Ichigo came to meet me, I'd have him take me to the school. I wanted to ask if I could attend, even if my mom didn't want me anymore, I could still get an education and move on…I could become someone so powerful and authorative, that she'd brag about how she was my mother, and then she'd want me back.. whatever it was, I would force Ichigo to help me enroll…

Thinking about Ichigo made me feel shaky inside, I'd explained the feeling to that headstone, but as usual, my own mind filled the silent void. I think I knew what this feeling was…but I wondered if it were normal…to love someone you just met…let alone a guy.

Ichigo POV

I sat in the back of the room, staring out the window watching the goings on of outside. The woman in charge was droning on about the basic outline of the reports we had to do, explaining about how it would affect our final grade, blah blah blah. She had given us a fucking paper with what to do on it already, there wasn't a point to a speech except to waste time…on the other hand, doing nothing for the next five minutes till the bell rang was better then more homework. I closed my eyes and counted in my head. If Shiro were here I wouldn't be so bored or lonely. I wonder which school he goes to, maybe I could switch…

Other then Shiro, I don't have that many friends. When I was younger I had an anger problem, and was easily pissed off…I'd lose control of myself and hit something…or in that one case…s-someone. Since that, I've learned to keep to myself, I don't touch people anymore…I hardly ever talk to anyone any more. Ever since a week ago, with meeting him, things have changed, I talk to him and everything's better, he's helped me in some way I don't even get. He is my best friend.

The final bell of the day finally released me, and I dashed outside to escape all of those people. I knew exactly where I was headed- the library. I always used to go there, so many books, computers, and in today's case-newspapers. I could start on my search for 'something important in history'. No matter how early I started, I knew I was going to fail this, so why go down without a fight? I was going to find the most exciting subject- to me anyways. Elections, mayors, new buildings; those subjects were a guaranteed 'A', but I'd fall asleep in the middle of the presentation, I wanted something shocking, unexpected, but normal and not to out of the ordinary- a major murder case, possibly, some important authority figure dying of-insert blank here-, or…a financial scandal, or…something. I really had no idea, I'd figure it out when I got there. I was one black away from my many paged wonderland, and already thinking about skipping it and going to meet Shiro, because I _just know _I would get _sooo_ much research done with him there.

I rounded the corner, the glass and metal doors of the public library in sight. As soon as I reached them, I nearly threw myself inside, welcoming the heater…it was fucking freezing outside. I went up to the old woman at the desk, her eyes magnified by black thick rimmed glasses with the typical wrap-around beaded thing holding them to her neck. She was scanning books in the 'return' slot, and piling them on the cart.

"do you need help?" not any that you can give me.

"do you have old newspapers, or articles?" she pressed her thumb to her lips in an 'I'm thinking gimme a damn minute' kind of way.

"not the papers sonny, but I think we've got a microfiche machine in one of the computer rooms. That should help you…" as soon as the words left her lips, she ignored me and went back to scanning books.

I took a quick look around the library, there was no one here-lucky me-, so I made my way to the stairs headed for the computer room. It was a huge library, two stories-no pun intended- the lower half completely wall to wall of books, from science fiction to English literature and poetry. The upper level was everything else, videos, computers, printers …magazines.

I opened the door to the machine room, it too was empty, and saw the old newspaper mechanism in the back corner…now for my torture to begin. Actually having to look things up-oh the horror. The thing came to life with a buzz, the monitor awakening. There were a bunch of buttons and gadgets on the machine itself…it looked like a nightmare, but eventually I figured it out. I turned the knob-looking thing, and began to scroll through it.

I just kept browsing through the mini headlines, my eyes scanning for something special. I found several articles on heart-attack victims, collapsed buildings 'five killed, several injured' ho hum…I even came across one suicide, and one bomber. I kept those in the back of my head, just on my list. A bunch of big murders, but nothing really special, oh, there's one about a serial killer, 'heart-theid serial killer found dead in apartment'…suicide? I added that to my mental list. I dug farther and farther back, there really wasn't much…new politicians elected, new schools, births, deaths, foundations…and then something caught my eye, just like the other things on my list had.

'Boy-found-dead's killer still at large; case goes unsolved'

This was the first one that hadn't had been closed. I added that to my list. After that, I didn't get any more hits. Everything was too positive, so I went back through my head, picking the top two, the unsolved murder and the serial killer. Hmm, which would be the most interesting? Well, heart-thief-killer just sounded stupid, so I unfolded a piece of paper from my pocket and titled it 'unsolved murder'. I reeled back through the miniaturized pictures till I came back to that clipping, and read through the whole page. Some kid had been found in an alley with twenty-seven stab wounds to the chest, stomach and neck. The body had been burned, and no DNA samples had been found at the site. The knife had been found stuck in the charred remains of the 'neck' but there were no fibers or skin cells on it, just rubber particles. Apparently, the kid's mother had gone into such major shock, wouldn't talk to anyone, or eat. Then a week after finding out, she hung herself. How sweet…

It was a short little note, not enough to fill two and a half pages, so I went to the internet for more answers. I checked the date at the top of the paper, 1997, closed the screen, and jumped to a computer table, I had about an hour before the place closed. I felt really into this assignment, the first schoolwork I could say I tried at. I could almost laugh… it was still a job to not go rushing off to see Shiro just yet… I wondered, even if it'd been just a week, if he would like me…

I slapped myself for thinking. If I got distracted I'd end up writing a report on feelings for another guy, oh joy. I opened a web browsing page, going to the google search engine, and typed in 'unsolved murders of 1997'. That brought up-327,896,452 results in 32.7 seconds. This would take a while… the first seven pages were adds for murder lawyers and TV shows, utterly useless. I kept clicking the 'o's on the bottom of the page, barely glancing at it, and then I found it. some website dedicated to unsolved murder cases, they'd taken the liberty of documenting over 7,500 killings, with pictures and details and interviews, oh my.

The link took me straight to the page about my particular story. The beginning had the same basic details, boy stabbed and burned, mother killed herself, killer never found. I scrolled down,

'October 31, 1997, the partially burnt body of a fourteen year old boy was found on the streets of Mid-town. According to the pathologist who autopsied the body, multiple stab wounds were the cause of death, not extreme heat. No evidence connecting the killer to the victim was found, the huge amount of people out on Halloween night making it near impossible to narrow down possible killers.

Weeks later, the mother of the victim, who would not comment on the tragedy, was found dead in her home from suicide.

To this day the murder of Hichi Shirosaki has not been solved'

Whoa, whoa whoa, that's a lot. Angsty- wait, _Shiro_saki? Wasn't that the name my best friend used to introduce himself? That's…kind of an odd…coincidence…I clicked on the picture link to see the photo of the crime site. There was a rather gruesome looking picture of a half cooked body, the limbs all strewn about…blood soaked most of the sidewalk surrounding the cadaver. The arms and the head were unscathed…I guess, and were pale, even fro black and white pictures, but I'd expect that from the settling of the blood. The head was lulled to the side, facing away from the camera, but a deep wound was visible on the outstretched neck, with lots of blood dried to it. on the next page was supposedly the 'before' picture of the victim. I laughed at the phrasing, the 'before' and 'after' pictures of murder. My chuckle stopped dead in my throat once I recognized the photograph…there was no fucking way. It was a twin, or a misprint, it had to be…there was no way that was possible…

The same face? This was a prank, a fake site…a major mindfuck. The picture on the screen in black and white, looked just like me… maybe it was just the black and white…if I clicked the color picture it'd probably show green eyes and blonde hair…or something like that… I think the link made it even worse.

A sick feeling in my gut told me I was not dreaming, the full color picture, it was white. With golden eyes. And…that familiar grin…no…fucking…way.

I think I screamed, I must've, because the next thing I knew, the librarian from down stairs was in my face and shoving me out the door. This wasn't for real, I mean, I wouldn't be able to see Shiro if he were dead…I wouldn't be able to talk to him, I wouldn't be in love-no. h-h-he would've told me wouldn't he? I was in mental hysterics…why wouldn't he tell me if he were dead…unless, he wasn't. that was the obvious answer…but somehow, I knew…that article wasn't bullshit.

Shiro was either fucking with me…or- he didn't even know he was dead.

* * *

this is probably the last update i'll do...if there's not another one by tomorrow, then this is my last for a bit. i'm sorry. i hope it's gotten good though. review please.


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